THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


CANNON-FLASHES 


"JUPITEK   ILLA   PIAE   SECREVIT   LITORA   GEXT1." 

Horace,  Epodon,  Lib.  Carm.  xvii,  63 
•'IXJURIOSO   NE    PEDE    PRORUAS 

"STAXTEM   COLVMXAM,   XEU    POPULUS    FREQUEXS 
"AD   ARMA   CESSAXTES,  AD   ARMA 
"COXCITET   IHPERIUMQUE   FRANGAt." 

Horat.  Carm.,  Lib.  1,  xxxv,  13-16. 


CLAES      MARTENZE. 


I^EW   YORK: 
W.  II.'KELLEY  &  COMPANY.  653  BROADWAY. 


1866. 


TO   OUR   VOLUNTEERS. 


N  the  battle-cry  alarming, 
Said  rebellious  hordes  are  arming, 

Everything  looked  drear. 
Women  hugged  their  babes  in  terror, 
Strong  men  cursed  the  traitors'  error, 

Freedom  dropped  a  tear. 


Old  men  almost  ceased  advising  : 
Youths  were  everywhere  arising  ; 
Nations  stopped  to  hear. 


612830 

UUKT 


TO  Ol  R  VOLUNTEERS. 


Then  arose  the  anthem,  ringing. 

From  the  fields,  of  armies,  singing, 

«. 
"  On  !  right  on.  we  steer." 

And  a  million  arms  caressed  them. 
Many  million  voices  blessed  tnem. 

•/ 

Blessed  the  Volunteer. 

Foes  had  torn  his  native  land. 
By  her  he  must  fall  or  stand. 

She  to  him  is  dear, 
He  could  hear  the  musket  rattle, 
Face  the  cannon  in  the  battle, 

Die,  but  could  not  fear : 


TO  OUR  VOLUNTEERS. 

Such  a  band  are  your  defenders, 
Who  can  die  but  can't  surrender-S- 
Such  the  Volunteer. 

Here  was  freedom's  army  going 

To  the  place  where  shells  were  mowing, 

Fields  of  armies  clear; 
Yet  no  step  is  seen  to  falter, 
No  determinations  alter, 

In  the  Volunteer.  ^ 

Now  they  charge !  But  some  are  lying 
On  the  field,  some  dead,  some  dying ; 
Shoutings  reach  the  ear — 


TO  OrR  YOU  NTKEKS. 

Then  the  maimed  and  wounded  heroes, 
Struggling  weakly  in  the  death-throes. 

Lisp  a  patriot  cheer. 
Weakened  by  the  feeble  effort. 
Thinking  not  of  his  discomfort. 

Falls  the  Volunteer. 

Freedom  in  her  heart  embalms  you, 
Cursing  every  dart  that  harms  you, 

Every  sword  and  spear ; 
Every  age  will  crown  you  brave. 


Old  and  young  will  know  the  grave 


Of  the  Volunteer. 


AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 

men  are  not  by  same  or  similar  methods 
Educated.     One  takes  God's  word  divine, 
And  ponders  it,  and  says  "'tis  naught!"  or  worse; 
But  he  may  from  a  feeling,  living  heart 
Work  out  philanthropy,  nor  ever  think 
Of  revelation,  until,  in  working  out 
His  heart-work,  he  becomes  co-partner  with 
Infinity,  and  wakes  to  find  that  lie 
In  loving  man  has  learned  to  love  his  God. 


AUTHOR'S   Al'OLOGY. 


An  earthly  father  does  not  think  to  please 
All  children  with  like  gifts;  one  little  eye 
Will  dance  enraptured  at  a  pole-and-ape, 
Another  craves  a  telescope. 

In  man 

God  planted,  sometimes  in  choking  thorn-ground. 
Sometimes  in  soil  like  dust  on  road-side  rocks, 
Again,  so  deep  down  under  self  and  sense, 
That  it  will  never  rise  and  burst  its  cell, 
Its  prison-house,  to  bud  and  bloom  for  good. 
But  yet  'tis  there,  God-planted  still,  a  germ 
That  swells  with  almost  heart-pulsations.     Vain ! 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


Why  vain  V     Because,  tho'  God-implanted  germ 

It  be,  yet  needing  care  or  it  is  naught. 

'Tis  not  His  way  to  give  a  watch  (to  use 

A  similie)  and  then  return  to  wind  it. 

Some  men  are  satisfied  to  live  and  breathe. 

And  chew  the  cud  that  may  be  in  the  way. 

And  look  with  cattle-eyes  on  scenes  that  show 

The  thoughtful  study  of  divinity ; 

And  yet  they  pass  their  cattle-lives,  and  dream 

Their  sensuous  somnolence,  while  one. 

Their  neighbor,  aye !  their  very  blood,  perhaps, 

Brings  out  his  heart  and  mind,  and  lavs  them  down 


i- 


10 


AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 


In  view  of  all  the  picture,  and  communes 
With  it,  and  feels  an  interest.     Yes,  and  more ! 
He  feels  an  inspiration,  and  he  goes 
Away,  and  lives  better,  and  works  harder. 
Working  is  living' :  he  that  does  not  one, 
Does  not  the  other. 

Yet  all  cannot  work 

At  making  theories,  and  thoughts  in  shape ; 
Not  every  man  can  frame  philosophy. 
Few  Bacons  have  so  knocked  the  rugged  edges 
Off  them  by  their  thoughts,  that  all  men  who  hear 
Their  names  suffix  (if  not  in  word  in  thought) 


AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 


11 


Their  other  name,  Philosopher. 

Tis  not 

For  every  man  to  put  the  hidden  things 
Of  earth  and  sense  where  the  rude  and  robbed 
Can  read  them.     •'  Robbed,"  we  said,  advisedly, 
For  every  man  untaught  is  robbed  of  more 
Enjoyment  than  he  knows,  because  untaught. 
You've  seen  a  school-boy  spelling  out  his  task, 
A  Bible  chapter,  say,  to  make  it  plain. 
When  some  terrific  proper  names,  first  seen, 
Have  driven  from  his  mind  context  and  sense : 
Leave  him  to  grow,  and  robbed  of  higher  growth 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


The  names  that  make  their  images  in  us. 
And  light  the  caverns  of  the  brain  all  up 
With  borrowed  rays  of  joy.  are  what  to  him? 
Mere  bugaboos  to  frighten  him.  and  when 
He  meets  them,  balks — then  stumbles — hits  on  some 
thing — 

Then  stops  to  breathe,  and  seems  to  hear  the  fiend 
('Tis  nothing  else  to  him)  hiss  out  the  echo : 
I  say  he's  robbed  ! — a  monument  of  wrong ! 
And  what  is  that,  which  having  got.  we  say 
"  That  one  is  educated  T     It  is  not 
That  having  thumbed  a  dozen  heavy  tomes 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


13 


In  each  of  four  or  five  vernaculars. 

And  crammed  their  substance  in  the  lofts  of  brain, 

He  may,  at  will,  ransack  and  reproduce 

For  future  similie  and  figures  apt ; 

But  rather  that,  as  there  is  nothing  new 

That  he  has  thought  with  others,  and  with  self, 

And  draws  from  that  within,  which,  as  we  said, 

God  planted. 

He  that  is  a  God  of  grace 
Is  God  of  nature,  too.     The  artist  sees  it. 
And  when  studying  thi#  he  learns  the  first, 
The  while  he  reproduces  it,  the  hist. 


14 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY 


Another,  from  an  image  in  his  mind, 
Not  new — for  then  'twould  be  absurd — chips  off. 
First  roughly,  then  more  delicately  nice. 
Until  the  image  of  his  mind  stands  forth : 
A  duplicate  of  what  he  had  before, 
But  vre  knew  nothing  of  until  it  comes 
Before  our  senses.     Now  we  are  learning, 
But  he.  in  this,  is  educated. 

Say, 

If  you  will,  the  form  existed  in  the 
Marble  bed,  before  'twas  quarried, 
And  I  will  tell  you,  yes !  and  would  have  been 


AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 


15 


Existing  thus,  while  angel-hands  at  last 
Were  rolling  up  the  heavens  as  a  scroll, 
Had  not  the  hand  of  Genius  set  it  free. 

4 

What  say  you  ?     "  Just  as  well !"     No !  No ! 
Gamaliel's  lessons  make  Paul's  joy 
In  heaven,  even  yet,  the  more  complete. 
That  is  our  goal,  and  he  who  learns  the  most 
On  earth  will  need  least  schooling  there. 

Art 

Is  but  nature  simplified  for  mortals. 
The  music  Mozart  thought  as  far  excelled 
The  music  which  he  dotted  down  as  he 


16 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


Was  capable  of  feeling' — more  than  notes 

Are  of  expressing.     So  of  that  other 

Music — Poetry.     'Tis  thought  exstatic. 

But  when,  'tis  tried  to  plant  this  thought,  that  we 

May  come  again,  and  see  it  there,  and  point 

Our  friends  to  it.  that  they  may  love  it,  too. 

It  will  not  leave  the  pen.  or  if  it  does. 

Leaves  not  to  seek  the  paper,  but  the  air. 

Man  is  finite.     Hence  man's  deeds  are  finite. 

The  mind  is  part  of  Deity — immortal — 

Partaking  of  the  infinite,  cannot 

Be  prisoned  in  our  little  play-house  world. 


AUTHOR'*   APOLOOV. 


17 


We  pick  the  eagle's  plumes  that  fall  to  earth, 

And  mortal  eyes  may  follow  him  a  time, 

Some  more — some  less — but  all  will  lose  the  sight. 

And  none' can  even  picture  to  themselves 

His  feelings,  soaring  thus,  till  lost  to  us, 

Up  there  where  we  place  "  paradise." 

Man  is  finite.     But  let  him  soar  to  find 

The  infinite.     Aye,  and  he  must  soar  thus : 

••'  Mind  not  high  things,  but  condescend  to  those 

"  Of  low  estate,"  said  Christ  to  men  long  since. 

Planets  are  mighty  Avorlds.     Our  little  earth 

Is  truly  little  in  comparison. 


18 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


Yet  there  are  many  things  and  places,  too. 

Upon  its  shell,  that  \ve.  poor  men,  call  '•  great." 

A  spiders  web  is  not  of  high  estate. 

But  take  your  telescope  to  Sirius. 

And  there  your  spider-line  would  hide  the  earth. 

And  even  if  our  earth  were  magnified 

To  be  as  large  as  all  its  orbit  is. 

'T would  still  be  hid  by  this  same  spider-web. 

If  things  were  only  what  they  seem  to  us, 
The  Dog-star  but  a  little  star  would  be, 
Reminding  us  of  gas-jets,  half  turned  off; 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOUY. 


19 


And  the  great  central  sun,  one  million  and 
Four  hundred  thousand  times  the  size  of  earth, 
Would  never  be  but  half  the  size  of  Sirius. 
But  so  it  surely  is — and  stranger  still. 
Its  light  would  more  than  match  a  dozen  suns. 

The  meanest  plough-boy  learns  to  tell  the  tides, 

But  he  would  stare  to  hear  that  one  by  them 

Could  weigh  the  moon  as  if  in  balances. 

But  when  once  proved,  man  freely  grants  the  fact, 

Just  as  we  do  an  axiom  at  sight. 

And  thus  we  see  mind,  like  art  and  ages, 


20 


AUTHOR'?   APOLOGV, 


Is  progressive.     It  starts  with  naught — a  babe, 
And  may  become  an  Humboldt  presently. 

The  "  things  of  low  estate."  of  which  we  read. 

Are  not  the  little  meannesses  of  earth. 

All  earthly  wisdom  when  transplanted  there 

AVill  be  of  very  little  worth.     What  then, 

Are  we  to  shun  it  therefor '!     No  !  oh,  no ! 

Being  the  best  we  have,  use  it  as  best 

We  mav ;  God  likes  not  sloth  or  imiorance. 

v 

And  so  we  learn  that  everything  in  life 
Is  high  or  low  to  man.  according  as 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


'21 


He  stands  upon  a  lower  or  a  grade 

Above  :  and  by  the  atmosphere  between 

He  measures  it.     The  upper  air,  though  light, 

Appears  to  -magnify  the  things  unreached ; 

The  mountain  top  looks  mighty  from  the  valley, 

But  from  the  mount  the  vale  looks  tame. 

Now  back — 

Our  drawing-rooms  are  satisfied  with  light 
Which  human  toil  has  made  from  buried  mines; 
A  sun  would  scorch,  and  dazzle  and  destroy. 
The  mind  can  drink  great  inspirations,  too. 
Which  ill  would  take  the  place  of  oxygen  for  lungs, 


AUTHOR'S  APOLOjY. 


And  as  ill  give  the  carbon  back  again 
To  leaf-mouthed  nature,  to  be  reproduced. 
Just  so  the  mind  can  hold  commune  with  God, 
Which  neither  human  cameras  can  catch 
To  photograph,  nor  human  words  express. 
Our  paper  from  the  filth  of  city  streets 
Requires  a  die.  not  yet  found  out,  for  this ; 
Nor  will  we  know  the  secret  till  we  die. 

Perhaps  'tis  just  as  well.     We  love  earth  now, 
That  is,  for  what  it  is — a  stopping  place. 
What  now  is  pleasure  might  be  pain. 


AUTUOR'S   APOLOGY. 


23 


Bring  down  your  soaring  eagle  from  his  eyrie. 
And  pinion  him,  and  he  becomes  the  thing 
Our  thoughts  appear  whenever  with  our  pens 
We  try  to  rivet  them  on  paper.     Better 
Let  them  liy.     We'll  see  them  sometime,  may  be ; 
If  not,  what  better  would  we  be  to  have 
The  fainting  body  chained  to  look  upon 
When  the  spirit's  dead  ? 

And  tho'  tis  pleasant 

Thus  to  dream  and  let  the  pencil  try  to  follow, 
Do  not  expect  that  thoughts  we  only  think, 
And  cannot  write  or  speak ;  could  live  if  writ, 


AUTHOR'S   APOLOGY. 


And  coffined  in  the  covers  beasts  had  once. 
And  laid  away  in  vaults  (for  vaults  they  are 
Of  dead  men's  words,  if  not  of  dead  men's  bones), 
"Which  we  call  libraries. 


NATIONAL   MEMORY: 

AN  HISTORICAL   RETROSPECT. 

M|RATITUDE,    than    which    there's    no    more 

native  virtue, 
Has,  from  time  immemorial,  been  the  song  of  the 

poet. 

Young  ^Eneas  bore  Anchises  old  from  Troja. 
Virgil    sang  it  in  verses,  which  man  will  never  let 

perish, 
Greece  defended,  sings  the  praise  of  her  defenders, 


26 


NATIONAL  MEMORY: 


And    Leonidas,  with  the    three  hundred  heroes  of 

Sparta, 
Live  to  show  the  world  "a  good  deed  cannot  perish.' 

Rome  remembers  Cato,  nor  forgets  the  Gracchi. 
All  the  world  will    remember  the  name  of  Cincin- 

natus. 

Macedon  remembers  youthful  Alexander. 
Thebes  in  joy  fulness  points  to  the  name  of  Epami- 

nondas. 

Is  the  name  of  William  Tell  or  Winkelreid  forgotten? 
Has   Kossuth    no   place    in    the    records   Hungary 

treasures  ? 


AN  HISTORICAL  RETROSPECT. 


27 


Think  you  Poland  never  thinks  of  Kosciusko  ? 

Warren  was  not  lost  when  Bunker  Hill  was  taken, 

And  Montgomery  was  not,  though  at  Quebec  he 
perished. 

Nation's  hearts  are  great,  and  seldom  cold  and 
thankless. 

We  can  place  by  the  side  of  our  first  love,  Wash 
ington,  many. 

Baker,  Mitchell,  and  Lander,  and  Lyon,  Reno,  and 
Winthrop 

Are  among  the  great  we  love  so  well  to  honor. 

i 

There  is  room  for  Ellsworth,  too,  among  the  number. 


28 


NATIONAL  MEMORY. 


All  the  martyrs  who  fell  'neath  the  wasting  scourge 

of  rebellion 
Will  be  more  and  more  beloved  by  future  millions. 

Nations  know  to  hate,  as  well  as  love  their  children, 
And  their  hatred   is  even  as  strong  and  lasting  as 

love  is. 

Does  the  Christian  really  hate  the  name  of  Judas  ? 
Can   we    study  with  joyfulness   tales   of  Cataline's 

treason  ? 

No !     We  run  from  treason  as  we  shun  contagion. 
Floyd  and  Breckenridge  now  are  as  foul  as  Benedict 

Arnold ; 


AN  HISTORICAL  RETROSPECT. 


29 


Judas  is  reproduced  in  a  Jefferson  Davis. 

Forty  centuries  have  changed  the  home  of  empire. 

India,  father  of  letters,  is  now  but  a  British  colony. 

Egypt,  like  her  pyramids,  is  but  a  relic, 

Standing,   proud   of  her  history,   mighty    tomb   of 

antiquity. 

Sparta's  noble  heroes  are  a  race  no  longer; 
Now  the  Parthenon  looks  on  the  conquering  race  of 

Mohamed. 
Classic  Athens,  Corinth,  Thebes,  are  homes  of  slaves. 

Carthage  stood  against  the  Romans  three  times  ably. 


30 


NATIONAL  MEMORY: 


Carthage  now  is  a  waste  and  a  home  fit  only,  for 
serpents. 

Rome,  the  world's  great  conqueror,  is  like  her  con 
quests  ; 

On  her  several  hills  lives  a  race  by  no  means  "  the 
Roman." 

That  name  is  now  past,  and  no  more  means  dominion. 

In  her  arch-ways  the  owl  at  the  present  inhabitant 
hoots, 

And,  in  their  ignorance,  they,  even,  do  not  hear  him. 

Presses  now  were  giving  all  the  wealth  of  letters, 
Luther,  greatest  of  leaders,  had  made  religion  over ; 


AN  HISTORICAL  RETROSPECT. 


31 


Then  a  Genoese  displayed  a  world  to  Europe, 
Fit  for  races  which  the  old  world  could  not  nourish, 
Clad  with  luxuriant  growth,  while  below  were  min 
eral  riches. 

Here,   then,    martyrs   for  freedom  and  truth  were 
coming  together ; 

God  had  kept  this  land  for  such  a  race  as  they  were. 

Quakers,  Methodists,  Baptists,  and  Puritans,  staunch- 
est  of  all, 

Huguenots,    fresh  from  scenes   like  Bartholomew's 
day, 


32 


NATIONAL  MEMORY. 


Brands  from  the  burning  at  Smithfield,  and  Spain's 

inquisitions. 
Tried   by  fire    and    sword,   then   sent   to   found    an 

empire. 
Here,  too,  came  from  oppression  Ireland's    noblest 

offspring ; 

And  Holland  sent  her  sons,  those  true  reformers, 
All,  all  pledged  to  God  and  the  right  and  for  liberty. 

England,  mighty  England,  sought  their  subjugation, 
But  she  only  effected  ;'  a  bond  of  union"  among  them. 
Steady  was  the  march  of  this  young  nation  forward  ; 


AN  HISTORICAL  RETROSPECT. 


33 


Thrones  and  monarchs  quailed  before  the  rising 
republic. 

Eighty  years  had  passed,  and  her  step  was  not  more 
slow ; 

Then,  with  volcanic  eruption,  burst  a  mighty  re 
bellion — 

Came  from  ambitious  men  grown  fat  on  her  honors. 

Cromwell  led  the  English  nation  'gainst  oppression ; 
France  believed  that  equality  was  her  right,  and  the 

nation 
Rose  to  make  it  known.     Yes!  rose  in  revolution. 


34 


NATIONAL  MEMORY. 


But  here  it  was  not  a  wrong,  but  a  feeling  of  alien 
ation. 

"  We  have  always  had  the  greater  part  of  power," 
Said  a  lordly  minority  to  the  mass  of  the  people, 
"  Give  it  to  us  still,  or  we  will  go  and  leave  you." 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLION. 

'ANY  years  had  Christains,  just   for  sake   of 

union, 

Made  excuses  for  slavery  till  they  thought  they  be 
lieved  them. 
When    they   found   that    system    murdering   their 

mother ; 

• 

When  they  saw  that  their  flag  was  trod  in  the  dust 

by  traitors; 
When,  in  April,  Sumter's  walls  were  battered ; 


36 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


When  they  saw  our  armies  had  been  arranged  for 

surrender ; 

When  they  saw  our  treasures  carried  to  the  traitor, 
Then,  no  longer  waiting,  rose  the  nation  quickly, 
Made  excuses  no  longer,  but  each  was  burning  for 

battle. 
Only  one  resolve  to  all — to  crush  rebellion. 

When  this  great  uprising  made  itself  apparent. 
Many  who  never  had    dared   to  think  of   slavery 

calmly. 
Now  began  to  think  'tis  not  divine,  nor  human. 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


37 


When  they  thought  of  it  then,  as  the  corner-stone  of 

the  traitor, 

Old  conservatives  even  fiercely  said,  "  we  hate  it !" 
Every  convulsion  in   history,  whether  we    know  it 

or  not, 

Has  an  object  mighty,  framed  by  God  in  heaven. 
This  rebellion,  I  take  it,  is  not  made  an  exception. 

This  new  world  was  not  kept  for  centuries  hidden 

for  nothing. 

We  are  blessed  with  freedom — we  have  got  a  Bible — 
God  intends  we  shall  give  to  the  rest  of  the  world 

our  blessings. 


38 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


How  could  we  teach  Christ  to  men  and  be  inhuman? 

How  show  freedom  to  others,  and  hold  a  race  in 
subjection — 

Give  the  Bible  to  men,  while  we  break  its  every 
precept — 

Teach  the  golden-rule,  and  keep  a  sickening  slave- 
pen — 

Send  our  teachers  to  China,  and  turn  our  backs  on 
the  negro? 

Think  of  Christ's  command  to  us — "  Teach  every 
creature." 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLIOX. 


39 


Then,  if  we,  in  putting  down  this  foul  rebellion, 
Should  be  forced  to  uproot   the   poisonous  growth 

which  it  fosters, 
Why  should  we  be  grieved?      'Twas  God,  not  we, 

who  did  it. 

This  is  one  of   the  ways   that  Jehovah  purges  a 

people. 

When  disease  is  severe  harsher  drugs  are  called  for; 
When    the  sin  of  a  people  cries  to  heaven  against 

them, 
Then  are  they  overthrown,  or  purged  by  fire  from 

heaven. 


40 


ONE  YEAK  OF  THE  KEBELLIOM. 


When  the  traitors  centered  all  their  fires  on  Suniter, 
They    thought    Anderson,    weak    and    surrounded, 

starved  and  deserted. 
Was    a    type   of    their    foe,   tied    up,    cramped    and 

crippled — 
Half  of  the  North  were  with  them,  and  many  more 

living  by  cotton. 

But  the  first  report  that  shook  old  Charleston  harbor, 
Caught  by  wires,  was  carried  to  every  home  in  the 

Union. 
Scarcely  had  the  smoke  of  conflict  fully  vanished 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


41 


When  the  voice  of  an  outraged  people  was  crying 
for  vengeance. 

*  Now  the  sounds  of  cannon  come  again  to  Charleston; 
Cannon  never  to  cease  from  their  wrathful  work  of 

destruction. 

Till  a  ruined,  wasted,  scarred,  and  burning  city 
Stands  a  monument  fit  for  a  deed  the  foulest   in 

history ; 
Till  the  bastard  counterfeit  is  sunk  forever, 


*  This  was  written  >>efore  the  first  year  of  the  rebellion  had  closed,  and  was  therefore 
prospective.  See  pa<re  44,  written  at  the  end  of  the  rebellion,  for  the  fulfilment  of  the 
prediction,  which  I  confess,  a  year  before,  looked  as  if  it  never  would  be  literally  fulfilled. 
Had  I  waited  nutil  to-day  I  would  select  no  other  words, — "ruined,  wasted,  scarred  and 
burning," — express  the  appearance  of  the  leading  city  of  the  rebellion  when  the  war  was 
terminated. 

NEW  YORK,  May  1,  1866.  CLASS  MARTENZK. 


42 


ONE  YEAR  OF  THE  REBELLION. 


Torn  from  every  staff,  and  trod  in  the  dust  by  the 

victors, 

And  our  starry  banner  floats  in  peace  and  triumph. 
But  there  is  a  picture  dark  as  was  the  former. 
What  is  worse  than    ingratitude — worse  than  open 

rebellion  ? 

'Tis  conspiracy  against  a  benefactor — 
Even  worse  when  it  secretly  plots  and  openly  kisses ; 
Worse  when  the  victim  is  covered  with  trouble  and 

needing  assistance. 

Of  such  an  one  beware  !     Shun  him  like  a  viper ! 
Mark  him  for  your  contempt,  and  teach  your  children 

to  hate  him. 


ONE  YEAR  OP  THE  REBELLION. 


43 


True    men   cannot    doubt   that  right   will  conquer 

treason. 

Be  it  distant  or  near,  it  is  sure  and  certain  as  heaven ; 
Woe  to  the  copperhead,  then,  and  plotters  in  secret ; 
Double  woe  to  her  who  stocked  the  seas  with  pirates. 

Nations  know  to  hate  as  well  as  love  their  children, 
And  their  hatred  is  even  as  strong  and  lasting  as 

love  is ; 

And  they  know  to  revenge,  with  terrible  vengeance, 
Every  check  and  hindrance  placed  by  foreign  envoy. 
Let  old  England  beware  the  time  when  forbearance 

ceases. 


THE  END  OF  REBELLION. 

RICE  and   again  lias   earth  her  orbit  made. 
Now  look ! 
Cannon  did.  not  cease  from  their  wrathful   work  of 

destruction 

Till  a  ruined,  wasted,  scarred,  and  burning  city 
Fell !     and    Weit/ell's     black    legions    in     triumph 

rushed  Into  Charleston. 
They    built  their   structure   on  "  a   corner   stone  of 

wrong, 


THE  END  OF  REBELLION. 


45 


And  when  blue-coated  warriors  crumbled  that  with 

their  cannon, 
Down    the   fabric    came,  and   then  one  wrong  was 

righted. 

And  then  in  the  confusion  and  the  hurry  of  escaping 
And  wrhile  beholding  nations  waited  for  the  end, 
We  learned  that  dying  Slavery  had  done  her  very 

worst  in  death  ; — 
And  when  the  flag  went  up  again,  our  Lincoln  died. 

His  work  was  done — he  reached  Fame's  ladder's  top 
most  round. 


40 


THE  END  OF  REBELLION. 


Only  a  martyr-crown  could  make  him  more  beloved; 

Made  twin  with  Washington — our  two  bright  names 
for  aye — 

And  he,  the  giver,  takes  the  honest  hand  of  our 
preserver. 

They  live  !  The  one  began,  and  now  the  other  has 
perfected  it — 

"  Our  Country's  Father,"  and  "  Our  Martyred  Presi 
dent." 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 

PREJUDICE—HER  FRUITS  AND  HER  VICTIMS. 

|§(||i||)WAS   Ruffin's  hand   that  first  the    lanyard 

sprung, 

That  woke  the  echoes  from  the  quay,  and  rolled 
Its  thundering  volume  all  adown  the  port, 
Till  grim,  cold  Sumter — monument  of  him 
Who  in  the  olden  time,  though  Southern  born, 
Fought  for  his  native  land  and  liberty, 
Yes,  grim,  cold  Sumter  caught  upon  her  sides 


48 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


The  cooling  spray,  dashed  up  by  plunging  shot, 

And  after  it  re-echoed  back  the  thunder  notes 

To  every  little  cavern  and  recess, 

Which  woke  on  that  devoted  starving  band 

The  pent-up  hatred  felt  by  prejudice ; 

Aye,  and  like  Thor-hannners  Vulcan  driven, 

While  every  tensed  muscle  felt  the  wedge 

Spring  and  rebound,  as  if  it  loathed  to  break. 

On  every  side  and  angle  came  the  whir-r 
Of  sailing  globes,  anon  to  burst,  and  then, 
In  one  death-rattle,  disappear  in  death. 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


49 


And  calm,  the  central  target-spot  of  all 
This  pyrotechnic  hell,  old  Sumter  stood ; 
And  when  a  temporary  draught  would  raise    . 
The  smoky  war-cloud-pall  that  covered  her, 
And  place  in  bold  relief  against  the  sky 
Those  brazen-throated  images  of  modern  Mars 
Upon  her  battlements  and  parapets, 
Sullen,  like  the  little  band  deserted, 
Forced  to  see  without  the  power  to  stay, 
And  look  to  sea-ward  for  the  help  they  need ; 

While  up  above,  hauled  taught  against  the  sky, 


50 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


Our  flag,  in  angry  tones,  defiantly 

Flaps  out,  and  flings  its  curses  with  its  warnings. 

That  flag  came  daicn  ! 

But  oh,  the  night  came  too ! 
'Twas  like  the  night  that  saw  God  crucified ; 
"  The  vail  was  rent,"  and  op'd  the  way  of  joy, 

% 

And  life,  and  manhood,  to  a  race. 

"And  graves'7 

"  Were  opened"  but  to  hide  the  ghastly  leavings 
Of  Secession's  banquet,  but  to  engulph 
Battalions  and  brigades  ; — dead  now, 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


51 


Because 

They  laid  their  piled-up  bodies  in  the  way 
To  throw  "  the  car  of  progress"  off  the  track. 

Aye,  and  "there  was  an  earthquake"  too,  and  dire, 

Such  that  it  shook  down  art  and  nature  both. 

Go  see  the  howling  wilderness,  in  all 

That  garden-place,  shut  in  between  the  lines 

Of  burnished  bayonets  and  stern  blockade. 

But  there's  a  quiet  after  every  storm, 

And  these  together  make  the  consciousness 

In  men,  and  then  centurions  say,  convinced, 

"Truly  this  was  the  Son  of  God  " 


52 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


Black  arms  can  stretch  to  heaven  now,  and  not 

Compel  a  morbid,  sickly  "Christianity" 

— So  called  by  its  apostate  followers — 

To  fill  the  ear  of  God  with  weak  excuses, 

And  attempts  to  make  Him  comprehend  that 

All  this  misery  is  to  evangelize, 

And  Christianize,  and  help  His  kingdom  on. 

Back  with  such  doctrines  to  the  hell  they  left ! 
A  less-polluted  Adam  would  have  blushed 
To  stand  thus  in  the  light  of  God's  great  love, 
And  try  to  saddle  on  Him  wrong  and  hate. 
"'Twas  Thou,  and  she  Thou  gavest  me,  not  I!"- 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


53 


"  God  made  them  slaves — hold  Him  responsible !" 

There  our  excuse,  with  his  contrasted,  stands  : 

"He  in  the  heavens  laughs,  and  has  them  in  derision." 

It  took  a  very  Prince  of  Liars,  and 

In  serpent's  dress,  at  that,  to  say  to  Eve, 

"  Thou  shalt  not  surely  die." 

This  age  is  big 

With  impudence  !     That  deed  was  common-place. 
An  ass  has  better  eyes  for  seeing  angels 
Even  than  prophets,  sometimes. 

And  wherefor? 
Why,  prejudice  makes  wretched  spectacles. 


54 


AFTER  THOUGHT?. 


We've  passed  four  awful  years.     The  struggle's  over. 

We  stand  to-day  on  vantage  ground,  and  look 

Farther  ahead,  and  back  in  history  clearer ; 

We  see  God's  hand,  and  see  our  nakedness, 

And  hear  the  echo  of  our  fathers'  crime, 

As  it  goes  hissed  and  hissing  down 

Through  all  the  centuries. 

Yes,  Ruffin  first  awoke 

The  bark  of  noisy  hell-hounds  bent  on  war ! 
'Tis  over  now ! 

Our  flag  hangs  fearless  now, 
Strained  to  the  top  of  every  mast.     There's  not 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


55 


A  hand  on  earth  dare  think  to  let  it  down. 
It  may  look  calm  reproof,  and  that  it  should ; 
And  where's  the  cure  ? 

The  cure  is  in  a  heart 

That's  true.     Some  minds  would  rather  face 
The  burning  woes  of  hell  than  come  before 
The  truth  and  see  its  purity. 

And  now, 

Rumn  wakes  up  one  other  echo  more, 
And  bursts  dissatisfied  from  one  into 
Another  world,  if  haply  it  may  suit  him. 

There's  Ruffin's  history — here's  Ruffin's  end. 


56 


AFTER  THOUGHTS. 


The  little  smoke  he  raises  now,  is  soon 
Blown  from  an  atmosphere  too  clear  for  it. 

And  he  who  thought  to  fight  to  maintain  wrong, 
But  proved  him  wrong  until  he  gave  it  up ; 
And  Ruffin's  brains  forced  out  by  Ruffin's  hand, 
Winds  up  the  tragedy — and  we're  avenged. 


PART    SECOND. 


M     O     O     D     U     S  , 


AN    INDIAN    LEGEND. 


INTRODUCTION. 

!D  you  ever  think  of  the  past, 
And,  like  mariners  high  up  the  mast, 
Strain  your  eye  on  what  seemed  but  a  void ; 
Till  at  length  things  obscure  become  clear, 
And  a  feeling  quite  kindred  to  fear 

Shows  a  joy  that  you  hardly  enjoyed  ? 

Did  you  ever,  on  ground  that  you  thought 
With  the  weightiest  influence  fraught, 


58 


INTRODUCTION. 


Seem  to  see  the  old  heroes  march  out? 
Or,  perhaps  on  some  place  of  romance, 
Your  quick  mind  runs  along  in  advance, 

And  you  people  spot  beyond  doubt. 

If  you  have,  then  perhaps  you  were  told 
Of  the  Indian  legend  of  old; — 

Of  the  pale,  whiskered-race  then  unknown, 
Men  who  came  in  a  bird  o'er  the  waves, 
And  with  lightning  slew  the  red-braves, 

And  at  length  by  the  red  man  o'erthrown. 

It  was  long  before  from  Palos  sailed 
The  band  so  daring,  which  nearly  failed, 


INTRODUCTION. 


59 


When,  seeking  Cathay  to  the  west : 
After  troubles  and  trials  and  doubt, 
Till  at  last  but  Columbus  held  out, 

And  expected  his  hopes  would  be  blest. 

Yes !  'twas  long  before  San  Salvadore, 
Or  the  Guanahana  of  yore, 

Saw  the  pageant  to  their  eyes  so  new; — 
Long  before  he  who  toiled  for  the  chance 
Of  perfecting  his  plans  in  advance, 

Introduced  a  New  World  into  view. 
That  from  out  of  the  cold,  rough  north-west — 
That  stern  "Ultima  Thule"  so  unblest— 


60 


INTRODUCTION. 


Went  a  crew  with  rude  knowledge  and  scant, 
To  scour  o'er  the  trackless  black  waste 
In  their  lust  after  gain,  and  their  haste 

To  collect  that  which  strangers  did  plant. 

'Twas  before  old  Queen  Margaret  the  Dane 
Had  attempted,  and  that  not  in  vain, 

Joining  Denmark  and  Norway  in  one ; 
And  from  that  time  did  Norway  take  place, 
And  among  all  the  rest  of  the  race 

She  a  place  as  a  nation  had  won. 


THE  LEGEND. 

0 

PART  I. 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  NORSEMEN. 

,  long  before,  from  old  Scandinavian  lands 
uninviting, 
Started  a  band  of  adventurers  seeking  the  land  they 

had  heard  of. 
Vinland,  "  the  region  of  sunshine,"  Biorn  had  seen  to 

the  westward  : 

Many  a  youthful  heart  longed  to  go  with  the  venture 
some  seamen; 


62 


THE  LEGEND. 


Many  a  timid  girl  saw  the  form  of  her  lover  re 
treating, 

Going  to  seek  in  a  far-off  land  for  the  means  to  sup 
port  her ; 

Many  and  divers  farewells  and  many  fond  words  of 
returning, 

Up  went  the  little  white  sails,  and  off  went  the 
billow-tossed  vessel. 

Iceland  and  Greenland  are  passed,  and  now  to  the 

southward  proceeding ; 
Several  day s  go  by,  and  no  land  to  the  look-out  arises ; 


THE  LEGEND. 


63 


Now  to  the  westward  they  steer,  and  soon  a  new 
land  is  before  them.. 

Singing  their  national  hymn,  they  go  to  the  shore 
with  thanksgiving. 

First  goes  the  grey-haired  priest,  in  his  hand  uplifted 
a  crucifix ; 

Then  the  leader,  majestic,  his  banners  waving  above 
him: 

Next  came  the  solid  array  of  the  steel-mailed,  glit 
tering  guardsmen ; 

Foremost  among  the  women,  the  child  of  the  aged 
confessor ; 


64 


THE  LEGEND. 


Leaning  on   her  for  support,   walked   the   beautiful 

child  of  the  leader : 
Then  came  a  motley  collection  of  artizans,  women 

and  children ; 

Tall   in   the  midst  rose  the  muscular  form  of  the 

blacksmith ; 
Tripping  along  at  his  side,  moved  the  doubled-up, 

solemn-faced  sexton. 


PART    II. 

THE   PLOT. — ARRIVAL   OF   MOODUS. 

There  they  settled  and  dwelt,  and  pointed  the  Indian 

westward ; 
He  would  not  turn  his  back  on  his  home  and  the 

graves  of  his  fathers  : 
Openly  acting  the  friend,  in  secret  he  hated  the  pale- 

.     face. 
Round  to  the  neighboring  tribes  went  the  herald, 

demanding  assistance; 


66 


THE  LEGEND. 


Braves  in  Moshassuk  assembled,  the  war-dance  was 
danced  in  the  meadow ; 

Then  came  the  medicine-man,  and  stopped  the  dance 
with  a  gesture ; 

Silently  all  sat  down,  and  the  prophet  addressed  them 
as  follows : 

"  Braves,  you  have  smoked  the  red  pipe,  you  have 
danced,  and  are  black  with  the  war-paint; 

"  One  you  have  failed  to  call,  to  go  forth  in  your  band 
on  the  war  path, — 

"  Moodus,  the  pride  of  Kiehtan;  'tis  he  that  you  fool 
ishly  slighted." 


THE  LEGEND. 


67 


Pautucket,  the  chieftain,  arose  and  summoned 
Seekonk,  the  fleet  messenger; 

"  Go  to  the  hills  of  Quonehticut,  summon  '  the  pride 
of  Kiehtan,' — 

"  Go  to  young  Moodus,  the  chieftain,  on  the  Quoneh 
ticut  river." 

Then  sat  the  chieftain  Pautucket;  Seekonk  went 
out  from  among  them. 

On  the  third  morning,  at  sunrise,  the  medicine  rose 

up  and  shouted  : 
"  Hark !   on  the  hills  I  distinguish  the  feet  of  the 

messenger  nimble ; 


68 


THE  LEGEND. 


"  Warriors  follow  his  steps  to  assist  the  braves  of  the 

nation; 
"  War-paint,    brilliant   and    gay,    shines   from   faces 

tawny  by  nature ; 
"  Tomahawk,   bludgeon   and   bow.  with   quivers  all 

bursting  with  arrows  ; — 
"  Now  let  the  war-dance  begin,  and  the  37oung  men 

chaunt  out  the  death-song ; 
"  I  will  invoke  the  Kiehtan  if  now  he  will  give  us 

the  pale-face." 
Then  they  began  to  tambour  and   dance  with  the 

wail  of  the  death-sons-. 


THE  LEGEND. 


09 


Till  from  the  ground  rose  the  medicine,  holding  his 

hand  up  for  silence ; — 
u  Children,  be  patient  two  suns,  when  the  moon  lights 

the  tower  of  the  stranger, 
"  Then  may  you  take  them  in  sleep  and  offer  them 

up  to  destruction." 
Better  received  was  the  last,  than  the  first,  of  the 

message  thus  given : 
But  at  the  end  rose  a  shout,  and  each  one  prepared 

for  the  battle. 

From  the  Quonehticut  hills  now  entered  the  army  of 
Moodus ; 


70 


THE    LEGEND. 


At  his  command  they  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the 
broad  Naragansette : 

He,  with  Pautucket,  went  into  the  beautiful  tent  of 
the  latter : 

There  on  the  gay-colored  mats  at  ease  sat  the  chief 
tains  together, 

Smoking  the  fragrant  tobacco  in  red  sand-stone  pipes 
from  the  mountain. 


PART    III. 

THE     ATTACK. 

Two  days  have  gone  with  the  sun  which  has  set  to 

the  westward  in  glory, 
And  all  the  chieftains'  are  ranging  their  braves  for 

the  terrible  battle : 
Watching  the  round  full  moon  as  she  slowly  moves 

up  in  the  heavens — 
Slowly,  as  if  now  reluctant,  to  give  the  bright  signal 

for  slaughter ; 


72 


THE  LEGEND. 


Finally,  sadly  she  yields,  and  her  rays  touch  the 

tower  of  the  stranger ; 
Moodus  then  nods  to  Pau tucket,  and  forward  the 

braves  move  in  silence. 
Under  the  old  stone  tower,  asleep,  lies  the  watch  of 

the  colonists ; 
Quickly  a  form  stole  nimbly  around  the  rough  columns 

beside  him ; 
This  was  the  faithful  young  messenger,  fleet-footed, 

graceful  and  trusty ; 

In  the   advance  he  would  ever  go  of  an  army  in 
motion ; 


THE  LEGEND. 


73 


Now  he  had  slain  in   his  slumbers  the  whiskered 

guard  of  the  Norsemen, 
And  in  an  instant  more,  he  was  dressed  in  the  spoils 

of  the  fallen ; — 
Helmet,  and  breastplate,  and  greaves,  with  corslet, 

tunic,  and  sabre, 
Even  now  warm  with  the  life  of  the  cold  and  dead 

who  had  worn  them. 
Now  in  his  civilized  garb,  he  stalks  t'ward  the  low, 

quiet  village, 
Springs  to  the  roof  of  the  church  and  the  belfry, 

where  hangs  the  alarm  bell, 


74 


THE   LEGEND. 


Gags   while   he   snores,   out-of-time,    the   garrulous, 

greasy  old  sexton, 
Whom  he  awakes  with  a  kick,  to  surprise  and  a  cold 

perspiration ; 
Alarmed,  that  his  arms  will  not  move,  and  his  tongue 

has  forgotten  its  cunning, 

t_*  C.' 

Frightened,  to  find  in   his  belfry  a  Skraeling-like, 

Christian-dressed  stranger, 
(Just  as  at  home,  as  if  born  there.)  and  furling  the 

flag  of  the  Viking : 
Then  to  the  roof  he  steps  down,  in  his  arms  takes 

the  bed  of  the  sexton, 


THE  LEGEND. 


75 


Walking  along  on  the  peak,  sets  it  down  at  the  far 
ther  extremity, 

Then  looks  wildly  around,  when  a  piercing  yell 
breaks  at  the  instant, 

Changing  as  sudden,  again  on  a  higher  note  is  con 
tinued, 

Sounding  like  womanly  cries  of  alarm,  and  children's 
wild  frenzy : 

When  burst  the  first  wild  yell,  our  pioneer,  striking 
his  flint-rock, 

Dropped  down  a  spark  on  the  bed  of  the  sexton ; 
then  moving  back  quickly, 


76 


THE  LEGEXD. 


Soon  re-appearing  again,  with  the  sexton,  still  gagged 
and  perspiring. 

Sets  him  astride  of  the  peak,  now  blazing  and  crack 
ling  around  him ; 

Then  hurries  back  to  the  belfry  in  time  to  distinguish 
a  Norseman ; 

Here  at  the  first  wild  cry,  he  had  hastened  to  sound 
the  alarm  bell. 

Now  in  surprise  he  sees  by  his  side  a  Red  man,  a 
Skraeling. — 

In  his  dismay  holds  the  rope,  but  gives  no  alarm,  as 
he  thought  to ; — 


77 

THE  LEGEND. 


Leaping  upon  him,  the  Indian  cut  with  the  sabre  the 

bell-rope, 

1 

"  Twang-ge-te-tang "  went  the  bell — then  was  still, 

save  a  low,  humming  murmur : 
Closing  at  once  with  the  Christian,  a  scuffle  took 

place  in  the  belfry, 
Then  came  a  slam  on  the  steps,  and  there,  wrapped 

up  in  his  banner, 
Lay  cold  and  lifeless,  beyond  all  alarm,  the  form  of 

the  Christian : 
The  banner  just  now  so  lofty,  and  shaking  majestic 

defiance, 


78 


THE  LEGEXD. 


Lies  'round  the  corpse  of  the  dead  all  gory,  defaced 

and  forsaken. 
Dropped  from  its  pinnacle  high,  it  no  longer  delights 

the  inhabitants, 

And  as  they  look  to  see  it  shaking  its  noisy  defiance, 
Many  an  arm  dropped  powerless,  or  fell  on  the  foe 

without  slaying : 
Such  is  the  spirit  one  loses  or  gains  as  his  flag  drops 

or  flutters. 


PART    IV. 

THE  BATTLE. — BURNING  THE   SHIP. 

Out  on  the  greensward  the  Norseguard  stand  waiting 
life  or  destruction ; 

Standing  apart  from  the  natives,  with  only  the  chief- 
tians  around  them, 

Stood  young  Moodus,  and  by  him  Pautucket,  the 
brave  Naragansett, 

Close  by  the  side  of  the  latter  Seekonk,  the  fleet- 
footed  runner. 


THE  LEGEND. 


"  Look !"  said  the  chief  from  Quonehticut,  "  there  sits 
the  bird  of  the  white  man, 

"  Waiting  to  float  them  away,  and  curse  some  new 
land  with  her  cargo, — 

"  Let  now  but  three  volunteer  to  slay  the  great  bird 
of  the  stranger." 

Out   to   the    front    stepped   the    fleet-footed,   noble 
Seekonk,  the  young  messenger ; 

Eager  to  join  in  the  enterprise,  forward  came  thought 
ful  Showomet: 

Both  these  men  were  noble,  and  always  hunted  and 
rambled  together. 


81 

THE  LEGEND. 


Now,  as  they  waited  a  third,  they  stood,  each  em 
bracing  the  other ; 
Then    to   the    front  came    Seaconet  —  passionate, 

treacherous,  wily : 

Sad  were  Sekonk  and  Showomet  to  find  dark  Sea 
conet  their  ally : 
The  pause  was  but  for  an  instant,  yet  noticed  by 

wily  Seaconet; 
Deep  in  his  innermost  heart  he  treasured  the  look  of 

his  allies; 
Never  could  any  one  say  of  Seaconet  he  pardoned  an 

insult, 


89 

c-1  THE  LEGEND. 


Neither  could  any  affirm  he  avenged  it  in  noble 
encounter. 

Now  they  were  ready  to  start,  and  the  three  set  forth 
on  their  mission. 

Reaching  the  bank,  in  an  instant  the  two  plunged 
into  the  water ; 

The  third,  concealed,  prepared  to  slay  with  his  slate- 
pointed  arrows; — 

"  Twang "  went  his  bow-string,  and  fleet  flew  the 
long,  oaken  shaft  of  Seaconet; 

Harmless  it  bounded  away  like  the  hail  from  the 
mountain, 


83 

THE  LEGEND. 


Yet  in  concealment  he  waited  to  see  the  great  carcas 

roll  over ; 
While  he  waited  and  gazed,  a  movement  is  heard  in 

the  anchor-chains ; 
Then  on  the  deck  appear  the  forms  of  his  two  young 

companions ; 
Now  they  are  lost  to  his  view,  while  hatred  and 

envy  fast  hold  him : 
Then  from  all  parts  of  the  ship  rise  up  crackling 

flames  to  the  heavens ; — 

Quick,  while  the  chieftians  admire,  Seaconet  comes 
back  to  their  presence, 


84 


THE  LEGEND. 


Receives  applauses  for  deeds  which  he  did  no  more 

than  his  praisers. 
Still  on  his  bended  knees,  the  encomium  hearing, 

in  come  the  doers ; 
They  did  not  come  without  proof,  for  they  brought 

the  poor  pilot,  affrighted, 
And'  many  strange  looking,  nautical  wonders,  a  gift 

to  the  body  of  chieftians  : 
Then  did  young  Moodus,  the  chieftian,  look  on  Sea- 

conet  in  anger ; 
Friendly  he  turned  to  the  others  and  praised,  while 

his  features  were  smiling. 


THE  LEGEND. 


85 


Never  did  any  forget,  who  were  present,  the  words 

of  laudation ; 
Least  of  all  in  the  group  could  Seaconet,  the  wily, 


forget  them. 


PART    V. 

THE   CAPTIVES. THE    VIKIXG'S   DAUGHTEK. 

Meanwhile  the  battle  had  raged,  and  the  whites  were 
completely  subjected ; 

Squads  and  detachments  come  in,  the  lances  all  drip 
ping  with  scalp-tops : 

Nought  now  remained^of  the  place  but  smouldering 
ruins  and  ashes ; 

Grimly  arose  the  only  survivor,  "  the  tower  of  the 
stranger :" 


87 

THE  LEGEND. 


Round  and  beneath  its  rough  columns  were  marsh 
alled  the  captives. 

First  stood  the  garrulous  sexton,  who  swore  he  was 
e\ter  their  ally ; 

Next  him  the  obstinate  pilot,  nearly  as  dark  as  the 
natives ; 

Leaning  against  a  post  lay  the  venerable  priest  of  the 
village ; — 

To  God  his  prayers  ascend,  aye !  his  prayers  and  his 
spirit  together, 

And  from  his  eye  looks  the  glare  of  the  dead  for  the 
gaze  of  the  living ; 


88 


THE  LEGEXD. 


Close  at  his  side,  and  in  tears,  stands  the  brotherless, 

sisterless  orphan. 
"  There  is  a  captive  transoendaiit,  and  like  to  the 

moonlight  in  beauty," 
Spoke  out  Pautucket  to  Moodus.     "  Whose  shall  she 

be  for  a  captive  ?" 
Moodus  in  calmness  began,  and  his  words  dropped 

like  music  among  them  : 
"  Chiefs  of  the  people  may  never  marry  but  with  the 

approval 
"Of  him  who  governs  the  seasons; — call  out  the 

medicine  brothers !" 


89 

THE  LEGEND. 


Then   in  the  centre  stood  forth  all  the  chieftians 

assembled  together, 
And  to   the   circle   were   called    Seekonk    and   the 

thoughtful  Showomet. 

Quickly  the  medicine  men  raised  their  wild  incan 
tations  apart : 
Meanwhile  each  of  the  Sagamores  marked  out  a  circle 

around  him : 
Blindfold,  the  chief  of  the  medicines  shot  with  hi& 

shaft  to  the  zenith ; 

Curving  a  little  it  fell,  and  struck  Seekonk  on  the 
shoulder. 


90 


THE  LEGEXD. 


Glad  was  the  thoughtful  Showomet,  who  knew  that 

his  comrade  had  loved  her. 
Often  the  messenger  stood  by  the  home  of  the  Jarl 

and  the  maiden, 
Dumbly  and  patiently  loving,  yet  hardly  daring  to 

think  so. 
None  had  known  of  his  love  but  Showomet,  who 

shared  all  his  secrets. 
Now  she  was  his  by  decree  of  the  chieftians,  and- 

heaven  had  done  it. 
Leading  the  beautiful  girl  like  a  fawn  to  his  own 

habitation. 


01 

THE   LEGEND. 


He  and  his  faithful  companion  talked  of  the  plans 
of  the  wedding ; 

"When  she  is  willing  only,"  Seekonk  said,  "the 
wedding  will  happen." 

Beating  of  tambours  and  drums  was  heard  for  assem 
bling  in  council, 

And  they  were  summoned  away  to  the  side  of 
Pautucket,  the  chieftian. 


PART    VI. 

THE   INVITATION    TO   THE    TRIBES. 

"Go!"  said  the  chief  of  the  people,  the  well  formed 

chieftain,  Pautucket, 
"  Go  to  the  nations,  Seekonk,  and  bid  them  come  all 

to  my  gathering ; 
"  Go  to  the  land  of  Mohigans,  to  the  Quonehticut 

river ; 
"  Seek  the  Wampanoags,  summon  all  to  the  feast  at 

Nantasket. 


93 

THE  LEGEND. 


"Visit  the •  Mohawks,  with  them   the  Pequots,  bid 

hither  to  Aquibneck. 
"Tell  them  Moshassuk  is  free  to  them  all;  yes,  free 

from  usurpers. 
"  Here  we  will  revel  and  dance  in  praise  of  the  spirit 

Kiehtan. 
"Go  to  the  far  distant  North,  to  the  brave  Massa- 

chusets  and  ask  them ; 
"Bid  them  all  to  the  feast  of  the  Manibow  and  to 

Moshassuk." 


94 


THE  LEGEND. 


Seekonk  delayed  but  to  give  to  the  thoughtful  Sho- 

womet  directions. 
"  Keep  my  possessions,"  said  he,  "  If  I  never  return, 

keep  them  always. 
"  Let  not  'my  lily'  want  aught  till  I  come  again  to 

Moshassuk." 
Then  away  went  the  youth  to  assemble  the  nations 

for  feasting. 


PART    VII. 

SEACONET'S  REVENGE. 

Never  did  Seaconet  learn  to  forgive  nor  was  ever 

forgetful. 
Seekonk  had  not  yet  returned,  but  Seaconet  entered 

his  wigwam. 
Night  was  just  dropping  her  dark  sable  covering  over 

the  landscape ; 
When  he  came  out,  not  alone,  he  turned  his  steps  to 

the  river ; 


96 


THE   LEGEND. 


Sadly  the  captive  hung  back,  yet  knew  of  no  friend 
to  appeal  to. 

Showornet,  looking  to  see  if  ought  might  be  wanting 

within, 
Found  but  a  wigwam  deserted,  and  sought  for  the 

tracks  of  the  fugitive ; 
Now  when  he  saw  with  them  others  he  hurried  to 

seize  the  offender ; 
On  to  the  shore  he  pursued  them,  and  there  saw  Sea- 

conet  retreating. 
Into  the  opposite  point  leaped  the  birch-bark  canoe 

of  Seaconet, 


07 
THE  LEGEND.  * 


Hastily    plucking   an    arrow    he   sent   it   after  the 

traitor. 
Instantly  swam  to  the  point,  and  found  that  his  aim 

had  been  fatal, 
Not  to  the  treacherous  man,  but  had  pierced  the 

innocent  lily. 
In  his  mad  grief  and  despair  Seaconet  stood  scowling 

beside  him ; 
Angry  they  looked  at  each  other,  no  need  of  words 

were  to  either : 
Hardly  Showomet  could  spare  him,  so  much  he  thought 

for  the  lover ; 


98 


THE   LEGEXD. 


Yet  lie  refused  to  murder  a  foe  who  was  no  way  his 

equal. 
Turning  to  re-swim  the  bay,  he  saw  the  long  knife  of 

Seaconet 
Gleaming  over  his  shoulder,  a  meagre  warning  of 

danger ; 
* 
Then  in  very  defence  he  seized  the  wily  assassin, 

Bearing  him  down  to  the  ground,  they  closed  in  a 

death-grip  together. 
That  was  Seaconet's  last  treachery ;  never  again  did 

he  battle ; 
Though  he  was  conquered,  he  plotted  no  vengeance 

when  dead :  first  forgets. 


99 

THE  LEGEND. 


Hardly    able   to   stand    Showomet    arose   from   the 

conflict, 
Rested  awhile  on  the  bank  before  crossing  again  to 

the  village ; 
Then  in  the  boat  of  the  fallen,  he  paddles  over  the 

water, 
With  the  exertion  he  fainted  and  in  the  canoe  lay 

extended ; 
Left  to  the  wind  and  the  waves,  chance  brought  them 

back  to  the  village. 
i 

Lifeless  he  lay  in  the  boat  now  beached  on  the  bank 
of  the  river. 


THE  LEGEXD. 


Now  to  the  village  returned  the  messenger  back  from 

the  nations, 
Finding  his  wigwam  deserted,  he  followed  the  tracks 

to  the  water ; 
There  he  awaited  impatient  Showomet's  returning  to 

reason. 
He  only  wakened  to  die,  and  seeing  Seekonk  bending 

o'er  him, 
Pointed  him  east  to  the  point,  and  died  in  the  arms 

of  his  comrade. 

Now  he  can  wait  no  longer,  he  paddlies  the  skiff  to 
the  eastward. 


THE  LEGEND. 


Upon  the  point  again  runs  the  birch-bark  boat  of  the 

wily, 

Showing  the  dove  and  the  vulture  in  death  side  by 
side  on  the  meadow, 

Spurning  the  corpse  of  the  man,  which  slides  down 
the  bank  to  the  water. 

Prostrate  he  fell  by  the  form  he  had  loved  so,  and 
gained  so,  and  lost  so ; 

There  in  the  moon-light  Seekonk  fell,  and  died  broken 
hearted. 

Great  was  the  tumult  next  morn  when  the  youths 
were  missed  from  the  village. 


102 


THE  LEGEND. 


"  Pale  blood  has  done  it  all."  said  Pautucket.  "  now 

murder  them  singly ; 
"  Red-men   or  white   must   perish,  they  cannot   the 

same  land  inhabit." 
Every  captive  was  murdered — so  ends  the  ancient 

norse  colony. 
Nothing   remains   but    one   monument,  that    too.  is 

wrapped  up  in  mystery ; 
Only  "  the  old  tower"  at  New  Port.  "  the  old  stone 

tower  of  the  stranger." 


PART    VIII. 

DEATH     OF     MOOD  US. 

When  the  last  captive  fell  dead  from  out  of  the  woods 

came  the  blacksmith : 
Savagely  had  he  contended,  and  then  to  the  woods 

fled  for  refuge. 
Roots  and  wild  herbs  had  supported  his  life  'till  reason 

had  left  him, 
Only  a  while  had  he  hoped  to  survive  his  wretched 

companions. 


THE   LEGEND. 


Into  the  midst  of  the  sagamores  strode  the  huge  bulk 

of  the  blacksmith, 
As  an  avenger  appeared  this  new  apparition  among 

them ; 
Up  to  the  noble  young  Moodus  he  marched,  as  the 

worthiest  victim, 
Burned  his  knife  to  the  hilt  before  any  could  see  his 

intention ; 
Moodus  fell  quick,  but  a  hundred  tomahawks   slew 

the  assassin. 
Then  rising  half  way,  the  chieftain  spake  these  last 

words  to  his  followers ; 


THE  LEGENP. 


105 


Sad  was  the  face  of  the  chief,  but  more  so  the  words 
which  he  uttered : 

"  Moodus  is  going  to  leave  you,  to  visit  the  land  of 

Kiehtan : 
"  Goes  to  the  unknown  land  to  hunt  with  the  braves 

of  antiquity ; 
Into   the   land  which  we   know  not,  the   realm   of 

uncertainty. 
"  Bury  me  on  the   great   mountain  washed  by  the 

salmon-filled  river, 
("  Where  I  can  always  hear  the  gurgling  Quonehticut 

river.") 


106 


THE  LEGEND. 


'•'  There  may  I  never  be  troubled  by  Pale-men's  foot 
steps  above  me. 

'•'  Should  they  again  return  I  will  speak  from  my 
sepulchre  loudly ; 

"  Should  they  oppress  you,  my  people,  I  could  not  be 
quiet  and  know  it ; 

"  Should  they  set  foot  on  my  grave,  even  they  shall 
be  awed  by  mv  sroaninsfs." 

«/  •/      <— • 

Speaking,  he  fell  asleep,  but  was  never  forgotten  by 
Red-men. 

i 


.CONCLUSION. 

When   five   hundred   years    afterwards    they   were 

o'ercome  by  the  Pale-face. 
Turning  to  old  Mount  Tom,  they  heard  the  fulfillment 

of  prophecy ; 
When  they  were  driven  to  seek  new  homes  in  the 

wilderness  westward, 
Turning  to  old  Mount  Tom,  the}7  heard  the   deep 

groanings  of  Moodus. 


108 


THE  LEGEXD. 


Now  in  the  far-off-west,  reduced  a  pitiful  fragment, 
Old  men  think  of  the  mountain  that  stands  by  the 

fair-flowing  river ; 
Think  of  the  fate  of  their  race,  and  the  groanings  of 

Moodus,  the  chieftain. 
And  to  the  young  of  the  tribe,  go  through  with  •'•  the 

legend  of  Moodus." 

o 

Tell  of  Seekonk  and  Moshassuk,  tell  of  "  the  tower 


of  the  stranger." 


NOTES  AND  CORRECTIONS. 


Page   43.     "Envoy   should   read   "envy." 

"      45.     The  flag    was   raised    again  on  Fort    Sumter  the 

day  that  Abraham  Lincoln  was   assassinated. 
"      47.     Ruffin,    a   Virginian,   claimed    the   right    to    fire 
the  first  shot  for  the  rebellion,  which  was  granted, 
and,   after    the   conflict  was   over,   he   shot   himself 
in   Richmond. 

PART  SECOND. 

Page  61.  Biorn,  son  of  Herjulf,  sailed  from  Norway  to  Ice. 
land,  Greenland,  and  to  lands  which  he  named  Hel- 
luland,  Markland,  and  Yinland,  986  A.  D. 

Helluland,  Land  of  Stones,  supposed  to  be  New 
foundland. 

Markland,  Land  of  Wood,   or  Nova  Scotia. 

Vinland,  Land  of  Vines,  New  England,  where 
wild  grapes  are  native,  which  gave  the  name  also 
to  Martha's  Vineyard. 


110  NOTES    AND    CORRECTIONS.  ' 

Page   63.     Christianity  was  introduced  into  Norway,  A.    D. 
1000. 

"      66.     Moshassuk,  Indian  name  of  Providence,  R.  I. 

"        "       Medicine-men,  Priests  of  the  American   Indians. 

"       "       Kiehtan,  The  great  spirit,  the   Indian's  God. 

"  67.  "  Quonehticut,"  so  Governor  Winthrop  spelled 
Connecticut. 

"      74.     "Skraeling,"  Norse  for  "Indian." 

"      75.     Vikings,  Petty  Lords,  wandering  Freebooters. 

"      80.     Strike  out  "  men  "  in  the  last  line. 

"      89.     Sagamores,  Indian  Chiefs. 

"      93.     Aquibneck  should  read  Aquitneck. 

"       "       Manibow,  should  read  Manitow,  the  great  spirit. 

"    101.     "Upon"  should  read  "Up  on." 

"  105.  The  speech  commencing  "  Moodus  is  going  to 
leave  you,"  continues  to  "  Speaking  he  fell  asleep ;" 
each  line  should  therefore  have  quotation  marks. 
Line  fourth  is  no  exception. 

"  107.  Mount  Tom,  on  Salmon  River  and  its  branch 
Moodus  River. 

Salmon  River,  a  branch  of  the  Connecticut,  fifteen 
miles  from  its  mouth. 

Moodus,  Indian  word  for  "  noise."  The  place  was 
named  Mackimoodus,  place  of  noises.  These  are  a 
kind  of  earthquake,  having  their  centre  at  Mount 
Tom,  in  the  town  of  East  Haddam,  and  so  severe  at 
times  that  they  have  been  heard  as  far  North  as 
Boston  and  South  as  New  York  Citv. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


_ma 

OCTl  120*4 


Form  L9-42m-8,'49  (85573)444 


THE  LIBRARY 

WIVERSm  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


001  209  903    2 


G8U( 


• 

Ml 


Unive: 

Sou 

Li 


